


Hero

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Conversations, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Girls Kissing, Holding Hands, Hugs, Kissing, Post-Episode: s13e22 Exodus, Sleepiness, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 22:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14724675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Rowena gets her well-earned rest, and reader engages her in a heart-to-heart.





	Hero

Against all odds, Rowena had managed to leave the rift open long enough for Sam, Dean, Castiel, and, as it turned out, over twenty more people from the Apocalypse world to return. It had taken a lot out of her; not only had she been awake for almost two days, but the spell she'd been casting to keep the rift open had drained her. At one point she had almost passed out.

You wanted to go to bed right away, but Rowena insisted that she stay for the party. She wanted to celebrate, not just her own victory, but the Winchesters', as well. Having no other choice, you agreed. Grabbing a drink, you sat down on the chair she'd been occupying earlier. Rowena sat on your lap, and you wrapped your arms around her middle, holding her against you.

Strength wasn't one of your stronger features, but Rowena was surprisingly light. The two of you made small talk as you watched the party unfold, each sipping your drinks. At one point, Sam had approached you to thank Rowena. He'd told her he owed her and she'd made it clear that she would collect. You hoped that she would. She'd done so much for the two hunters, and most of the time it ended with her getting hurt — and, in the case of Lucifer, killed. The least she was owed was a favor.

At least this time she actually got gratitude.

There was a first time for everything.

No sooner had Sam gone back to join his brother and the others in the celebration, Rowena started swaying in your arms. Instinctively, you tightened your hold on her, keeping her upright.

"Sweetheart?" you asked, putting your glass aside and wrapping your arm back around her firmly.

"I'm tired." She put her glass next to yours, then brought her hand to her mouth. She yawned, face scrunching up adorably, and you held back a giggle at the sight. It was hard to believe one of the most powerful creatures in the Bunker could be that cute.

Rowena MacLeod was truly one of a kind.

"Wanna go to bed?" you asked. Not that you were going to give her much of a choice. You were more than ready to drag her to the bedroom if need be.

Letting out another yawn, she said, "Aye."

She got off you, and you stood up after her. Taking her hand, you led her to the room the Winchesters had given you. It was far from the luxurious hotel rooms Rowena was used to and the cosiness of your bedroom at home, but it did the job. After all, this wasn't a vacation. You weren't here to dip your toes in the sea and make sandcastles.

Though, given that you'd been forced to spend time with the devil — who had triggered and then tried to murder Rowena, _again_ — a trip to the beach didn't sound too bad. You made a mental note to mention it to Rowena later.

The two of you took off your clothes and quickly put on your nightwear (yours consisting of a nightgown and Rowena's of cute scarlet pajamas), then crawled under the covers. You laid down on your side, and Rowena nestled into you, curling against you like a kitten. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you threw an arm around her and pulled her closer. She was so tiny, her skin radiating with its usual warmth. It felt like you were cuddling a human-shaped furnace.

"Goodnight, Rowena," you whispered.

"Goodnight," she mumbled, and within seconds, she was off in the world of dreams, exhaustion taking over.

Not long afterwards, you followed after her.

* * *

Rowena was still asleep when you woke up. You found her exactly the way she was last night, curled up against you in a fetal-position, with your arm still around her in a tight hold. She looked so calm, her face the picture of serenity, like one of those gorgeous antique paintings. Not even they could measure with her. She was a work of art, a living, breathing sculpture of beauty and grace. Had you not known better, you would have called her an angel.

You hoped no nightmares had haunted her dreams. In the past few weeks, her sleeping had improved, but a nightmare or two still slipped in when she least expected it. You wouldn't be surprised if her latest encounter with Lucifer had left her with bad dreams. The bastard had triggered her for the sole reason of hurting her; that was bound to have left some kind of mark.

Luckily, at least from what you could see, Rowena appeared to be at peace.

 _Sleep well, sweetheart,_ you thought, observing her still form. Her chest gently heaved as she breathed, in tune with the soft beats of her heart. _You deserve it._

After what she'd done for those people, she deserved the world. And you would do everything in your power to give it to her.

A soft knock shook you from the thoughts of your girl. The door opened slightly, and a familiar face peeked in though the darkness of the hallway, half of it hidden by a shadow.

"Sam—" Castiel began, but you quickly shushed him by pressing a finger to your lips and motioning to the sleeping Rowena. He nodded in understanding, features shifting into a look of silent apology, and cleared his throat before continuing in a much quieter voice. "Sam and Dean are making breakfast."

Usually, you didn't eat right after waking up, but it had been almost a day since you'd put anything other than water and alcohol in your mouth. "I'll be there in a few minutes," you whispered.

Castiel nodded and closed the door. You looked down at Rowena, unable to resist smile at the sight. This gorgeous creature trusted you so much that she allowed herself to be this vulnerable around you. She trusted you not to take advantage of her unconscious state, to protect her, to love her. She trusted you with everything she had.

It had taken you months to earn this trust, this privilege to be so close to her. You made a promise to yourself — another one of the many — never to do anything to lose it.

Rowena was a treasure. She was worth more than anything that could make you even consider betraying her, let alone actually doing it.

Slowly, carefully, you got up. The last thing you wanted was to wake Rowena up from her well-earned slumber. She groaned, and chills ran down your spine, fear that you'd awakened her creeping in. But then she grabbed a hold of the covers and held them to her, the same way you'd been holding her just moments earlier, and you sighed in relief.

"I'll be right back," you whispered, too low for her to hear you, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

For a few minutes, you stood by the door and watched her like she was a beautiful, priceless artwork, putting all the other paintings in the gallery to shame with her mere existence. Exiting the room, you were surprised by how difficult it was to part with her. As you were walking to the kitchen, you kept throwing glances back at the door. The sane part of you knew that it was ridiculous. Most of the people currently residing in the Bunker were strangers, but even they knew better than to harm someone who had risked her health to allow them to get to safety.

On the other hand, just because they were war survivors didn't mean they were innocent.

You'd heard stories about Bobby Singer, the long dead one. The man was a bigot who hated anything with a drop of supernatural blood, save for angels. You doubted his alternate world double was any different — and that one had hated angels, too. Mary Winchester and Arthur Ketch weren't any better. Just a little under a year ago, they had planned to commit genocide of anything non-human. No exceptions. A few months back, Ketch had gone as far as torture and murder innocent witches in order to get to Rowena — whom he had tortured a few years back when the British Men of Letters had captured her. Sam and Dean could say he'd changed all they wanted; you didn't want him anywhere near her.

Tables and chairs were in every corner of the war room, people either sitting down or walking around them with plates and glasses in their hands. You turned down the noise of the chatter, swallowing the rising embarrassment of showing up in nothing but a long-sleeved nightgown. Thankfully, nobody paid you any mind, save for a few people you'd passed by sending a quiet good morning your way. Some of them, to your relief, weren't dressed any better than you, prancing around in Sam and Dean's old T-shirts — which, for the most part, looked like dresses on them. The Winchester brothers were giants even by alternate world standards.

The smell of eggs and bacon filled your nostrils, almost as enticing as the coffee and tea aroma you'd sometimes wake up to if Rowena happened to leave the bed before you. You greeted the brothers with a smile and took a plate of food, desperate to dig in as soon as possible. Sam had noticed Rowena's absence and asked about her. You told him she was sleeping, that she deserved a rest after two long days she'd had. He agreed, and when you asked him to save you a plate of food for her, he'd readily obliged.

You found a lone table in the corner and devoured your breakfast in the manner of minutes. You weren't comfortable around so many strangers, mostly because the majority of them were hunters. Castiel and Jack weren't human, either, but they knew these people. You did not, and they didn't know you. For all you knew, some of them could have specialized in witch-hunting back in their world, and you weren't interested in being their next kill — or leaving Rowena alone, asleep and defenseless, long enough for her to become their target. Hunters rarely played fair. Especially those who killed out of hatred rather than necessity.

Putting your now empty plate in the dirty-dishes-filled sink and grabbing the one Sam had left for Rowena, you hurried back to the room. As soon as you closed the door — gently, careful to make as little noise as possible — you noticed Rowena stirring. You tiptoed to the bedside table and laid her food atop it, hoping your hadn't disturbed her dreams. But it was too late, for she was already blinking, eyes half-open and heavy with sleep. She observed her surroundings, then her gaze settled on you and the corners of her lips curled into a smile.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," you said, returning her smile. Somehow, halfway between consciousness and dreamland, she was even more beautiful. Smudged makeup and messy bed hair only added to the charm, giving her magical presence a streak of humanity. She wasn't just a witch — quite possibly the most powerful one in the world. She was also a person with strengths and weaknesses, who could feel despite spending centuries believing she wasn't able to. She was Rowena MacLeod, a woman who had been through much more than most people could handle. She was the love of your life, your entire world.

"Morning," Rowena replied. She raised up into a sitting position, leaning against the wall for support, head falling back as her eyes drifted closed for a short moment.

"How are you feeling?" you asked.

"Tired."

It didn't surprise you. Ten hours of sleep weren't nearly enough to replace the two days that she had lost.

As soon as the word left her mouth, Rowena let out a long, loud yawn, and you barely held back a giggle. It should be illegal for over-three-hundred-year-old witches to be this cute.

"Don't laugh at me," she warned, emphasizing it with a raised forefinger.

"I'm not," you said. "You're just so adorable."

"Am not." She was trying to feign seriousness, but the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. She had long ago stopped being offended at being called adorable. For the most part because she knew that you meant it, every single time you said it. You'd never given her a compliment you hadn't meant. There was no point in lying to a work of art that was her.

It had taken Rowena some time to get used to being complimented honestly, but eventually she had come around. Throughout the centuries, people usually sweet talked her to either take advantage of her or manipulate her. You were doing neither. You loved her, loved every part of her, and you wanted her to know it. You were more than willing to provide her the genuine affection she deserved.

"Whatever you say, sweetie." You sat down next to her on the bed and took her hand, lacing your fingers through hers. "Sleep well?"

"Aye. But I could do with a few more hours." Her nose twitched as the smell suddenly hit her, and her eyes trailed to the bedside table, observing the large plate of eggs and bacon. "What's that?"

"Breakfast," you replied. "Brought you a plate in case you wanna put something in your mouth. I know it's not what you're used to, but you haven't eaten anything in two days, so…"

"It's fine," she said. Her smile widened. "Thank you, darling."

"You're welcome." You squeezed her hand in emphasis. Getting her food was the least you could do after what she had done. Pride bloomed in your heart as your thoughts flashed back to her keeping the rift open — and getting herself drained in the process. Despite, quite literally, giving it her all, she never complained. Not once had she said that it was difficult, that she couldn't do it anymore. Not once had she asked for help. Even when you offered her a reprieve, she wouldn't take it. She worked hard and had managed to save over twenty lives.

Your girl was a hero.

"Rowena." You inched closer to her and took hold of her other hand. Her eyes met yours, giving you her full attention. "What you did… It was so brave. And strong. You've come so far and… I'm very proud of you."

You knew that she could do it.

Now everybody knew it, too.

Heat burned in Rowena's cheeks, flushing them bright red. As much as she loved praise, she still couldn't get used to being complimented on her accomplishments. Redemption was a new territory for her. She'd spent centuries doing nothing but kill and destroy, for pure personal gain. It would take a while for her to embrace her selfless side.

You'd sworn to be there for her, every step of the way.

"I mean it," you said. "I know how hard it was for you to face Lucifer. But you did it. And you kept the rift open and helped so many people. You're a hero, Rowena. Not just mine anymore." You let out a small chuckle. "Guess I'm gonna have to get used to sharing you."

If that meant that people would finally acknowledge her accomplishments and give her a chance — the chance that you had given her three years ago — you didn't mind. Not even a bit. The world needed to see that she wasn't just a heartless witch. Behind the protective walls of coldness there was a person, as beautiful and loving as anyone else. Her flaws didn't define her — not anymore.

"I will always be yours," Rowena said. "For as long as you are mine."

"Always," you confirmed. You couldn't imagine being anyone else's.

"Thank you for being there. I don't think I would've been able to get this far without you."

"You would've." Not a single part of you doubted that. "But I _am_ glad to be of assistance. You know I'll always have your back."

"Likewise, darling."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Your lips met in a brief kiss, then you threw her arms around her and pulled her into a hug. Words couldn't describe how strongly you felt for her. She was the girl of your dreams, the love of you life, your entire world shaped like a tiny, warm person with hair as red as fire and eyes as green as forests. You couldn't imagine your life without her. She'd been in it for so long that you'd almost forgotten what loneliness felt like.

You hoped never to remember again.

"Wanna grab a shower?" you asked as you parted, linking your hands back together. You would never grow tired of touching her.

"After I eat," Rowena said. "I'm starving."

Her stomach grumbled as she said that. You both laughed.

"Need me to get you anything? Tea, maybe?" You were far from a good cook, but you could make decent tea. Rowena had taught you how to make hers exactly the way she liked it.

"If you would be so kind," she said.

"Of course." You pecked her cheek. "I'll be right back." You stopped by the door, your hand on the handle, and turned back to her, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "Don't go in the shower without me."

Rowena smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by my lovely friend OswinTheStrange.


End file.
